


Bitter

by penny



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist
Genre: Community: ij porn_battle, F/M, Hatesex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-04-06
Updated: 2008-04-06
Packaged: 2017-10-05 16:12:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penny/pseuds/penny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Winry looks at Roy, she can only see the man who killed her parents.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bitter

**Author's Note:**

> For the Porn Battle prompt _Fullmetal Alchemist, Winry/Roy, Punishment for his sins (go for it) - "Something ugly this way comes / Through my fingers sliding inside"_

She doesn't want to hate Mustang. So many people see something admirable in him, something that makes him worth supporting and protecting even now. But when Winry looks at him, she can only see the man who killed her parents. And then her hate bubbles up, thick and sour in the back of her throat.

"What do you want?" She doesn't sound like herself, and that's another reason to hate him. She's not the cheerful, happy Winry she wants to be. She's hurt and bitter, and it has to show on her face as well as in her voice, because Mustang winces and won't meet her eyes.

"If you're looking for comfort, I'm the wrong person." Her grip on the door tightens until her knuckles are white. She should end this, should slam the door in his face and refuse to answer if he knocks again, but she can't. He's just standing there, and there's something in his expression -- in his good eye -- that makes her think he hates himself more than she ever could.

She sighs, lets her hand slip from the door, and steps back. "Come in or go away. I don't care. Just decide. And don't expect kindness or forgiveness."

"I don't deserve either from you." He steps inside.

"Then why did you come?" She's honestly curious, and that surprises her. Hadn't she just said she didn't care?

"I killed your parents. I can't bring them back. I can't make amends to them or to you. All I can do is show you me at my worst."

"Take off the eye patch, then."

He winces again.

"You're not at your worst if you're hiding that, are you?"

"No." He reaches for the patch. "I suppose not."

The wound is ugly. The empty socket looks wrong, too shallow. The scarring around it is still livid. Winry's seen enough wounds to know they'll always be prominent, that their color won't fade. She's crossing the room to touch them before she realizes what she's doing, and Mustang doesn't flinch under her touch.

"Do they still hurt?"

"No." He dips his head lower, like he's going to kiss her, but he doesn't, of course. That's not why he's here.

Winry suddenly wishes it was. She reaches up and twines her hands in his hair. And then she stands up on tiptoe, licks the scars around his eye, traces the curve of the socket.

Mustang startles, but he doesn't pull away, so she grows bolder, slips her tongue in the socket, and yes, it is too shallow, skin stretched tight and smooth. Mustang shudders, makes a helpless little moan, and then he's touching her, lifting her so she has to hitch her legs around his waist.

He's hard and arching up into her, and he strokes her through her coveralls, his thumb circling around her clit. Then she's the one making helpless little noises, she's the one shuddering against him, and then she's coming, but it's savage and brutal and not at all what it's like when she does it herself.

She breaks away and has to force herself to meet his eye. He looks away first. "I should leave."

"Yes." She doesn't want to hate him, but she still can't see anything admirable in him, and she still can't offer him comfort. Or forgiveness.


End file.
